


Mythos

by OmniaVanitus



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmniaVanitus/pseuds/OmniaVanitus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki Laufeyson has been banished from Asgard.  It's not that bad really and he's actually starting to enjoy himself.  Or at least he would be if only Tony Stark would leave him alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.

* * *

Mortals. _Pftt._ Just how stupid and idiotic could they possibly be?

Quite a bit apparently, but what more could you expect from creatures who only use about 10% of their brains at any given time.

What was that quaint little Midgardian saying? Ah, yes: "Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups." _Especially if said group included a loudmouthed god of thunder and a temperamental green beast._

If he had been in his right mind or even in control of it all those months ago, then he never would have bothered with Earth and he suspected that the only reason Thor did was because they were just as dimwitted as he was. _And putting it to that woman of his was an added bonus no doubt._

For his crimes against Midgard, Loki had been stripped of his titles and banished from Asgard. He'd been lucky to have escaped execution, or at the very least a lifelong imprisonment, but thanks to his mother's persuasiveness, Frigga had not only convinced the Allfather to listen to Loki's side, but for Loki himself to put aside his anger and speak openly and honestly, something which neither men wanted to do. But it wasn't too surprising really, Frigga had been married to and mother of two of the most stubborn men in the whole of the nine realms and she was well accustomed to dealing with them and getting her way.

The unending void, the all consuming madness of Yggdrasil, and the horrors dealt by the Mad Titan were enough to garner the court's sympathy and for Odin himself to gather up the last tendrils of fatherly love and spare him the dungeons. But in exchange, Loki would never step foot in Asgard again nor be claimed an Odinson. It was to be expected.

For the first several months Loki had drifted, floating from realm to realm. With Asgard closed to him and Jotunheim a volatile clusterfuck it wasn't long before he eventually found himself back on Midgard. Right where it all went wrong.

Belonging neither here nor there, Earth was as good a place as any for him to find himself. It wasn't that bad actually, now that he was free of his overbearing 'parents'. It was just a shame he couldn't keep the thunderer at bay as well.

SHIELD hadn't been too happy when they found out he had returned of course, but then again that might have had something to do with how he had revealed himself.

Instead of waiting for the day when SHIELD would inevitably find him, Loki had materialized in front of the scowling, one-eyed director willingly. And despite his rather sudden appearance Nick Fury, for his part, had taken it in stride. Leaning back in his plush office chair, the man didn't so much as splutter out his morning coffee.

"Well, well, well," Fury had called. "I was wondering when you'd finally decide to drag your sorry ass in here."

"Director," Loki answered with a slight nod. Dressed in the sleek black suit he had worn back in Stuttgart, Loki claimed the sole seat in front of Fury's desk.

The two men sat in silence for several minutes, passively studying the other as Fury sipped at his black coffee and Loki's curious green eyes strayed to the few sparse artifacts decorating the room. Just as Loki reached out a long, bony finger to poke and prod at an odd curio laying out on the desk before him, Fury spoke.

"Thor told us all about your banishment, but I'd like to hear it from your own mouth."

"You would trust my words, Director?"

"Do I look that stupid to you?"

"Then why bother?"

"We have to start somewhere," Fury shrugged, "and believe it or not, I've actually been warming to the idea of having you around. I rather like knowing where you are as opposed to leaving you to gallivant about universe doing god knows what. And I'm sure Barton would approve of having you within shooting distance as well."

"No doubt," Loki agreed. "And here I thought you'd be scrambling for your precious Avengers to come and lock me in chains."

"The thought had crossed my mind, but Thor has made it quite clear that you fall under Asgard's law and your punishment was dealt at their discretion, regardless of how pitifully lacking the rest of us think it was."

"Was my banishment truly so unexpected? Such arrangements have been made throughout your Midgardian history," Loki pointed out. "Napoleon ruled the world before being banished to a small island."

"It's funny you should mention Napoleon. We have a little syndrome named after him, but I'm sure you've heard of that too."

"Yes, I'm familiar with the term," Loki admitted, ignoring the obvious bait, and asked curiously, "what is it you hope to gain?"

"Information," Fury said simply.

"And in return for this bounty of knowledge?"

"SHIELD would be more than happy to play host during your stay here on Earth."

Loki gave him a rueful smile. "I'm sorry, Director, but I've no intention of being your prisoner again. I've played the part far too often as of late."

"Then what?"

He hesitated, pausing long enough to take a breath. "I wish to be left alone, to find my own way."

"To make a home amongst us ants?"

"For a time," Loki said with a shrug.

He was willing to admit that Fury was by no means a stupid man and SHIELD had levied him with more than just information in return for staying on their precious little planet. But still not as much as he had been anticipating.

In addition to being SHEILD's new consultant on all things magical and alien, at least whenever Thor's limited knowledge on such things were of no benefit, he had also been forced to give a public apology. One, he might add, that was as fake as any other he had ever been forced to give and that was also not so public considering how much effort SHEILD had taken into keeping his identity secret. Loki had been half tempted to tell them that he could change his appearance just as easily as he could breath, but then again they do have to find some things out for themselves, right? And it's not like they won't have the opportunity, being monitored was another necessary condition of SHIELD's.

Loki was only grateful they chose a noninvasive method, something for which he should probably thank Tony Stark for seeing as he was one that designed and fastened the simple black braided cord now attached to his wrist. Loki was almost certain that that little cord on his wrist was supposed to do more than just monitor his whereabouts. A hunch that was confirmed when he gathered up a small ball of his seiðr into one hand not moments after the cord had been latched on. The none too subtle frowns on the Avenger's faces were proof enough, but he wasn't concerned though. Let them monitor it for all he cared, his magic was a part of him and the only one who had the power to take it from him was Odin himself.

Oh, but these creatures were truly ignorant. He had brought an alien invasion to their doorstep and they were still more concerned with his whereabouts than they were with the other nasties that inhabit the universe. Oh they had questioned him about the Chitauri and Thanos, but never once did they ask about the other worlds known and unknown to Asgard.

And if they truly thought the Asgardians were the only gods to have visited their world, then they were sadly mistaken.

It was by no accident that Odin banished Thor to Midgard, Earth has always been a dumping ground of sorts. It was after all, to use another quaint colloquialism, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Or according to Oscar Wilde, "go to hell, make a left." _Perhaps he should expect to see his daughter around here somewhere._

Whatever, at least he was left alone now. That was the deal anyway, but as often as the Avengers wandered into his tavern he was beginning to wonder.

Mythos.

A fitting name for his little tavern. It wasn't much and certainly not what SHEILD or the Avengers had been expecting from him, but it served his purpose and kept him in contact with the peregrine who frequented Midgard.

And a ready supply of alcohol never hurt anyone either.


	2. Golden Appletini

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.

* * *

Tony Stark stood at the entrance to the alleyway, eyeing a fat grey rat as it scurried along to the overflowing dumpsters down the way.

He knew he was in the right place, Clint and him had scoped the place out often enough and the sign hanging over the unassuming metal door, and looking far too weather-beaten for a business that had just opened up the week before, confirmed it. _The Mythos Tavern._

The neighborhood itself was shoddy and rundown and what Clint had referred to as 'upper-class ghetto'. It certainly wasn't anywhere anyone would expect to find the multibillionaire nor was it someplace he wanted to be either, but he didn't have a choice. The captain's incessant nagging was just too damn annoying.

Who the fuck was he to question his ability anyway? The Capsicle couldn't even program his goddamn VCR. Who the hell even _owned_ a VCR anymore?

It's not like it was rocket science after all. Hell, if it were then it would have been easy, but there was only so much he could do with SHIELD's _very_ limited data anyway. Loki had only used his magic once or twice. Everything else had come through the Chitauri spear and no one really knew what the fallen god was capable of except for maybe Thor, and the blonde Asgardian had no interest whatsoever in trying to help them cut off Loki's magic.

Thor wasn't concerned, and to be honest Tony wasn't either as long as Loki played nice. But even if he didn't, Tony was certain that the Hulk would love to make another appearance and tear up some more flooring with the god's face again and that alone should be enough of a deterrent to any future world domination plots the mischief maker might have.

Tony gave his sleek Acura NSX a forlorn look before stepping into the alley, crossing his fingers that his precious car would still be waiting for him and intact when he returned.

The nondescript metal door from the alley gave way to a small, dimly lit foyer lined with dark wood paneling and worn flooring that led to yet another door. Tony wasn't sure what he'd been expecting...a bottomless pit, a dungeon, a dumping ground filled with the bloody remains of dead cats and other animals...

There was none of that though, but the ornate, heavy wooden door was rather suspicious, mostly because of the eerie, sickly green glow it seemed to be emitting than whatever possible depravity that might lay behind it.

Tony hesitated, shifting from foot to foot anxiously, before curiosity won out and he carefully grabbed hold of the curved metal handle only to jerk away with a shocked cry as a violent ripple shot up his arm. Whiskey brown eyes stared down at the flawless skin of his palm, undamaged.

 _Huh, that was interesting._ It hadn't really hurt, but the thrum of energy, or was it magic, that had swept through him had been unexpected and unsettling. 

Shaking his head and steeling himself once more, the engineer grabbed the handle again, ignoring the second wave of energy...magic...whatever...that passed through him, and opened the door.

The tavern was just as dark as the entryway, but he could easily make out the handful of tables and chairs and the tall dark god currently hunched over the bar as he quietly read from an old leather bound journal. Loki appeared to have acclimated himself to Earth's more modern fashion; gone were his crazy Asgardian leathers, replaced instead with skintight, black denim jeans and a clingy, midnight blue sweater.

But what _really_ caught his attention was the proverbial shrine of alcohol.

Stark's eyes zeroed in immediately, taking in the floor to ceiling wall of backlit shelves filled to the brim with every type of alcohol imaginable and the beautiful crystal glasses hanging overhead, catching and reflecting the light like little magical prisms.

It had his mouth watering and before the engineer even realized it, he was sliding into place onto one of the barstools. But before he even had a chance to open his mouth and order a tumbler of fine single malt scotch, the god cut him off.

"We're closed," Loki said, not even bothering to look up from his book.

 _Well damn._ "Is that any way to treat a valued customer?"

Loki turned a page and Tony mentally noted the neat handwritten notes and diagrams. "We're closed. Get out."

Tony sighed. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be our new magical consultant you're not very forthcoming."

"Care to elaborate, Stark?"

"It's Tony and for starters, what the fuck is up with that door?"

"I have placed a number of protective spells upon it for the benefit of my customers and myself."

"I thought I was being electrocuted." 

"It is intended as a deterrent to those who would do me or my patrons harm. But even if you had truly harbored any ill will against me, it still would not have harmed you. Permanently anyway."

"What would happen?"

"Spoilers," the god said as he finally tore his eyes away from the journal, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

Tony leaned back in his seat. "I'm impressed, Reindeer Games. You're wearing our clothes, you're quoting Dr. Who... Have you tried pizza yet? Tell me you've had pizza."

Loki snapped the journal shut with an audible snap and Tony watched with keen eyes as the god flicked his wrist and the book twisted in on itself, disappearing into thin air. The god placed his hands on the bar top, leveling the engineer with his piercing green eyes. "What do you want, Stark?"

"Tony," he corrected again, "and I want a drink. I'd also like to know why my bracelet didn't work."

"The bar is closed and as for the bracelet," the god held up a thin wrist, the simple, black braided cord still in place, "is it not still tracking my whereabouts?"

"Cut the crap, Loki. You know what I mean."

"Yes, I believe I do." Another flick of his wrist and a simmering ball of green seiðr was balanced on the tips of long fingers. "You humans are capable of many things. Marvelous things even, though few and far between, but you lack the capacity to comprehend magic. And those gifted few who _are_ capable of seeing your world for what it is are often times shunned and ridiculed."

"So, that's a no then?"

"The only one with the ability to stem my magic," Loki spat bitterly, "is the Allfather and he has little reason to do so. Though if you are so concerned perhaps you should start a petition."

Tony nodded his head gravely, then remembered. "Don't I still owe you a drink?"

"Get out of my bar, Stark."

"Hey, do you have a signature drink," the engineer asked, completely ignoring the god's demand. "Every good bar I've _ever_ been to, and let's face it I've been to more than a few, always has a signature drink."

Loki sighed irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Tony grinned triumphantly. _Gotcha._ "Come on, Rock of Ages. I'd get out of your hair a lot sooner if you'd saddle us both up with a drink."

"One drink," Loki bit out, raising a bony index finger, "and you _will_ leave."

Stark nodded his head eagerly in agreement, too curious and thirsty to be concerned with something as meaningless as self-preservation.

Loki turned to pull down one of the crystal martini glasses, setting it on the bar top in front of the engineer.

"You're not gonna make yourself one?"

"I doubt you could afford my tastes, Stark."

Tony spread his arms out wide, flashing the mischievous god with his usual cocky grin. "Billionaire," he said simply as though that explained it all.

Loki nodded as he continued to mix the engineer's drink, looking completely unfazed by the admission. "Then perhaps I'll keep you indebted for a while longer."

With that he slid the finished concoction across the bar top towards Stark.

"An appletini," he asked incredulously.

"A _golden_ appletini," Loki corrected, pressing a hip against the bar as he folded his arms over his lean chest.

Stark hummed skeptically, pulling the martini glass closer. The drink did have a golden amber color, not too unusual for alcohol, but the glittering twist of golden apple skin that was floating in it was. Still, the multibillionaire didn't even hesitate in gulping down a large mouthful. It was crisp and sweet, almost like biting into a ripe apple, but with the added burn of vodka. 

"Not bad, Reindeer Games."

"You should consider yourself privileged," Loki commented, watching as Stark quickly drained his glass. "Few mortals have ever tasted the golden apples."

Tony blinked for moment. " _The_ golden apples?"

Loki nodded in confirmation.

The engineer's playboy grin made a brilliant appearance at that. "Does this mean I'm immortal now?"

"Hardly," the god scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "To become a god you must eat the entire apple, not just a bit of skin and juice. Though you may, no doubt, experience some health benefits."

Tony drummed his fingers on the bar top thoughtfully, watching as the god took the now empty glass away and began cleaning it. "Are these the same ones you stole from Asgard?"

Loki's green eyes flicked up to the engineer's before drifting back down to his work. "They are," he admitted.

Stark lent forward, folding his arms on top of the bar. "Since we're on the topic then, there's something I've been wondering about."

"Enlighten me," the god said in a bored tone, his hands never pausing as they ran a rag over the now clean crystal glass, drying it.

"In Greek mythology, the Trojan War was basically started when the goddess, Eris, threw a golden apple into someone's wedding party. Was that one of your apples?"

The corner of Loki's lips quirked up as he answered smugly. "It was." 

"How did she get it?"

The subtle twitch of the god's thin lips grew into an outright devious smile that slowly spread across his pale face and sent a shiver down Stark's spine. "It makes since, does it not, that after my thievery it was in my best interest to make myself scarce from Asgard. As it was, I found myself wandering your realm." Loki paused, noticing Stark's raised eyebrow. "Or did you truly think that jaunt with the Chitauri was my first visit to your little planet?"

"So you were in cahoots with Eris then?

"No, Stark. I _was_ Eris."

"Crossdressing," Tony commented. "Nice. I bet you look _stunning_ in high heels."

"If you only knew," the god said coyly.

Stark shook his head, trying to rid it of the sudden barrage of images featuring Loki strutting around in a pair of designer pumps. "So you started a war because, why? You weren't invited to someone's wedding?"

"Not quite," Loki corrected. "I was in 'cahoots' with Aphrodite. _She_ wanted to cause a war." A soft chuckle escaped him then. "She was rather jealous of Helen's beauty."

"You didn't try to stop her." It was neither a question nor was it accusatory. It should have been, but it wasn't.

"No, why should I have? Paris, could just have easily picked Hera or Athena over Aphrodite."

"People died," Tony offered.

"People tend to die in every war, Stark. And what do you care," the god asked curiously. "It was so far before your time it's considered myth. Hardly of any consequence."

"Just curious," the engineer said with a careless shrug, his hand coming up to stroke over his bearded chin thoughtfully. "So the gods from the other mythologies are real then."

"As real as Thor and I."

"Where are they now?"

"Here, there...it doesn't really matter."

"You think so?"

"Calm your paranoia, Stark. Not all gods wish harm upon you mortals."

"Just you, you mean."

"Extenuating circumstances, I assure you," Loki said, his tone darkening.

"Well come on, Reindeer Games. Inquiring minds want to know."

There wasn't much warning aside from a low growl, and then Loki's hand was wrapped around Stark's throat. "You've had your drink, Stark, and I have even indulged in your inane curiosity. But now it is time for you to leave."

"You really need to work on your hospitality, Reindeer Games." Ok, maybe he shouldn't have said that out loud if the sudden flip-flop in the pit of his stomach was anything to go by.

The pale hand around his throat tightened before he was suddenly being shoved back off of his barstool. But just as Stark was about to hit the hardwood floor, the odd flutter in his stomach intensified and the world froze around him. And then, he disappeared...

...reappearing moments later outside the bar, landing hard in one of the dumpsters he had seen out in the alley.

His ears had popped at the sudden displacement, and it took the engineer longer than he cared to admit for him to realize that he was now sprawled out in a pile of garbage, too focused as he was on remembering how to breath.

Tony turned his head slightly, coming face to face with the same grey rat from early and the sound of his car alarm blaring loudly.

Well, that went better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, and I don't quite have a plot yet, but it at least this gives you an idea of what I have planned. Essentially any folklore or myth that corresponds with another. Examples: Dragons and Vampires...ya, that shits gonna happen. If any of you have an idea, let me know.


	3. The Fires of Sicily

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.

* * *

"You know, when my operatives informed me you had opened up some seedy little bar, I thought for sure they were trying to fuck with me."

Fury was sitting at one of the tables in the small tavern, one arm thrown casually over the back of his chair while the other was out stretched on the table idly swirling the finger of scotch in the crystal tumbler the god had set before him. The melting ice clinked loudly in the otherwise silent room.

Loki hummed thoughtfully as he read through the confidential SHIELD file Fury had provided him. "Yes, I'm well aware of the irony, Director. The once crowned prince of Asgard made low and is now but a lowly cup-bearer."

"That," Fury responded, "and you don't exactly strike me as a people person."

Loki leaned back in his seat, pulling out a set of photos from the light grey folder and quickly thumbed through them. It had been an _interesting_ read.

"So, what do you think?"

"A few ideas come to mind," the god answered, inspecting an image of a supposed electrical fire...except the object in question, the half charred remains of someone's television set, had been unplugged at the time and the house, along with the entire village, had been without power for better part of three weeks. Still, unexplained fires continued to spring up in the small village.

"You'll be able to help?"

"I believe so, yes."

"And willingly?"

"That was the deal, was it not? Though I must admit I wasn't expecting an assignment so soon."

"For some odd reason, the World Security Council is uneasy with you setting up shop in our backyard," the one-eyed man said sarcastically. "So the sooner we start making use of you, the sooner they'll realize how much of an asset you'll be."

"Well then," Loki said, closing the file and pushing it back across the table. "When do we start?"

* * *

"We'll be landing shortly," the pilot said over the comms.

After being bustled from his tavern to the nearest SHIELD base and herded onto a quinjet, they were now only minutes away from their destination, the quaint little shoreline village in Northern Sicily. Canneto di Caronia.

Fury had opted out of course, bidding adieu at the base, only be replaced by the Black Widow.

Loki greeted her with a charming, dimpled grin and an "as lovely as always" comment, earning himself in return slightly narrowed eyes that promised pain. That had been the extent of their interaction. It was just as well, though he was rather tempted to ask after their favorite archer. He had been quite fond of the little hawk.

But instead, for the rest of the flight, they had sat in utter silence on their own side of the quinjet with Loki's arms folding over his chest and his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, pointedly ignoring the Black Widow's steady gaze with an air of indifference.

They landed without much ado and the back hatch opened up to the Mediterranean sun, bright and hot and reminiscent of Asgard's own. The commune had been cordoned off, the denizens of Canneto, all 154 of them, had been evacuated to safety weeks ago as the mysterious fires continued to wreak havoc on the now empty homes and shops.

Several SHIELD agents were milling around nearby, shifting uneasily as the god strolled off the quinjet, the Black Widow in tow, and watched with distrustful and weary eyes as he took in his surroundings. A team of scientists were wandering the area as well, dressed in hazmat suits and each carrying some form of equipment, from low tech divining rods to much fancier and modern gadgets with the Stark Industries logo prominently displayed.

But for all their tests, SHIELD had been unable to explain away the fires or discover their cause or so the file had claimed. The only thing they _had_ managed to learn from all of this was that the area had an elevated level of electromagnetic energy which in turn lead them to shutting off the power and plunging the entire village into darkness.

At least until the next house caught fire.

"Is there anything you need," Natasha asked as she stepped up to the god's side.

Loki laced his fingers behind his back, posture straight and confidant. "Only for your agents stay out of my way."

The widow nodded, promptly stalking off into the group of nervous agents still eyeing the fallen god as he glanced around and ushered them off to the sidelines to watch him work.

Curious, mistrustful eyes followed him as he drifted through the village, his steps slow and cautious. Occasionally Loki's long arms would lift up from his sides, reaching out blindly as though he were feeling for something, before they fell back down and he moved on to the next spot.

The afflicted homes were easy to find and Loki didn't hesitate as he entered one of them to see the damage firsthand. Blackened outlets and scorched appliances were a commonality among all the buildings, but occasionally he would stumble upon a room with either a chair or couch or some other piece of furniture that had been reduced to ashes.

He knelt down next to a wall socket, ignoring the soot that dirtied his clothing as he drew a finger over the burnt markings gauged deep into the drywall and flooring. Interestingly familiar, and something for which experience tells him was the result of lightning, not electricity. Shifting slightly, Loki moved in closer to a pile of ashes, the remnants of someone's unfortunate chaise, and sifted through them with his fingers, probing them with his magic.

It was faint, the ashes having long since grown cold and nearly a week old, but he could still sense the lingering scent of wild energy.

He emerged from the small stucco house and wandered farther into the commune, picking out another building at random to enter and examine. The damage there was more recent, enough so that when he let his seiðr seep out, he instantly felt a ping that disrupted the ripples of his magic.

Loki acted quickly, latching on to the blip and tethering it with a muttered spell as he stalked out of the building, moving even deeper into the village with purpose.

The trace led him to an area that had been, for the most part, untouched by the spate of fires and ended in front of a crumbling home. The dwelling stood abandoned like the rest of the village, but the air was so thick with energy it practically crackled as Loki waded into the electrostatic, his inky black hair frizzing as he went.

The SHIELD agents and scientists that had been watching him from afar must have picked up on his sudden sense of urgency and they began to slowly edge in closer, but Loki waved a careless hand, flicking his wrist and erecting a barrier with practiced ease to keep them at bay. Now was not the time for them to get in his way.

He already had an idea of who and what was behind the rash of fires and he entered the house cautiously. This was not the first time he's encountered this creature.

Nothing was aflame yet, but wisps of smoke were seeping out of the already blackened electrical outlets, crawling up the walls in dangerous, whimsical curls.

Loki stepped forward, turning in a slow circle before picking a spot in the middle of the wooden floor and sitting down, crossing his legs Indian style. He gave the tethers an encouraging tug, trying to coax the creature out of his hiding spot. He didn't have to wait long.

A crack of thunder echoed in the small room as the entity leaped from the sockets, a flash of lightning arching through the air, gouging grooves into the wall and floor as it landed before the god. It was made entirely of lightning, taking the shape of a slender fox, though Loki knew it was capable of many forms.

The entity bounded forward only to race playful circles around the mischievous god. Loki caught him easily and he huffed out a laugh, his Asgardian leathers smoldering as he wiggled in his arms.

"Run away from your master again, Raiju?"

The creature made a noise reminiscent of rolling thunder in answer, wagging his entire body happily as the god held him against his chest. The thunder beast wasn't nearly as large as the last time they had met, a testament to the neglect he's suffered during his stay in the small fishing village.

With the creature secured Loki stood, emerging from the domicile only to find the group of gathered SHIELD agents waiting on the other side of the barrier, Natasha Romanoff standing at the forefront.

"What is it," she asked, a perfect manicured eyebrow arching curiously.

Loki waved a hand in a sharp cutting motion, dissipating the barrier before he answered. "A thunder beast."

The Black Widow nodded in approval. "Good work, Loki. We'll take it from here." A few of the agents stepped forward, ready to take the creature into custody.

"I think not."

"Loki..." she warned, her hand falling to her sidearm to undo the strap securing it in place at her side.

The god gave a low, derisive chuckle. "You can't possibly hope to contain this creature."

"You agreed to help-"

"I agreed to help resolve your fire problem, which I have," he cut in. "Why would I release a being you know nothing about into your care? You are _incapable_ of understanding this creature nor tending to it properly." Raiju was already nearly a third of his original, healthy size.

"All the more reason for our scientists to study it."

"I think not," Loki repeated, unimpressed. A instant later he was holding the thunder beast out in front of him, his hands tightening around the creature as his seiðr pooled around him in a poisonous fog. The creature yowled and writhed in pain.

Natasha pulled her glock out fluidly, several other agents following suit, and leveled her gun at the fallen god. "Stand down, Loki."

But he paid her no mind as he succeeded in crushing the creature between his palms with an echoing shockwave of thunder and lightning. The Black Widow's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before they narrow again dangerously.

"As I said, I agreed to help. Not provide you with specimens to torture and experiment on."

"So you killed it instead."

"A kindness I'm sure."

She held her aim a moment longer before ultimately shrugging and holstering it, smirking smugly at the god's dumbfounded expression. "Our top priority here was to find and neutralize the problem causing the fires. While capturing the creature would have been _preferable_ , killing it was also acceptable." Natasha eyed the god for moment, taking in his still smoldering clothing. "Now, do you need a ride home?"

* * *

It was late at night and despite the lack of patrons, the tavern was still open. Loki didn't mind though, Raiju was keeping him company.

He was sitting at the table he and Fury had shared earlier that day with his new companion sprawled out on the surface, licking at a crystal shard filled to the brim with his poisonous green seiðr. It wasn't the same flavor the thunder beast was used to, but he was practically starving, his sharp teeth gnawing at a jagged edge. Raiju purred appreciatively, the sound of soft rolling thunder.

Loki felt a tug on the protective wards as the tavern's door creaked open. _It was about time._

"Raijin," the god said, greeting the newcomer.

"Loki," the man answered, his voice nothing more than a rumbling purr and thick with a heavy Japanese accent. "Thank you for finding him for me. I hope he hasn't been too much trouble for you."

Loki smiled softly. "No, not at all. Though the people of Canneto di Caronia might say otherwise."

"Sicily," he sighed. "See Raiju, this is why you shouldn't fall asleep in bellybuttons you don't know." The thunder beast in question only purred louder, its tail whipping out to curl around his master's wrist.

"Yes, I remember when he stowed away in Volstagg's great mountain of a belly," Loki laughed.

Centuries ago when he was younger and still called Thor his brother, before the thunderer had even been gifted the war hammer Mjölnir, they had visited Midgard. Drunk on sake and wandering Japan's countryside, the two princes along with Sif and the Warriors Three had been hunting kirin, a Japanese unicorn that was part dragon part deer. They were mostly docile creatures, but when attacked or provoked they became quite volatile, shooting fireballs from their antler-like horn.

But then one morning, after a particularly violent thunderstorm which Thor claimed he was _not_ responsible for, Volstagg awoke to find sparks of lightning shooting from his navel. Fandral had been quick to declare him the new thunder god which in turn led to Thor challenging Volstagg to a bare knuckle brawl.

They matched each other blow for blow until Thor had managed to wrap his thick arms around his friend's belly, ignoring the bright flashes still coming from his stomach, and squeezed him so hard the thunder beast had popped right out.

The group had been frozen in shock before Loki broke the silence, congratulating the new mother with Fandral offering up his own toast, demanding to be the godfather. Sif had dissolved into a fit of giggles at that and even Hogan's shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. It was one of Loki's more happier memories of the group, a rare commodity.

Raijin had appeared not long after to reclaim his wayward familiar. Smooth, flawless skin, lean frame hidden under layers of rich, vibrant kimonos and armor and long pitch black hair tied securely in a thick braid.

Thor towered over him easily, and the two thunder gods had clashed almost immediately, long spear meeting broad axe. But while the blonde Asgardian had brute strength, the Japanese deity had speed and, to Loki's surprise and Thor's annoyance, strong magic that he had no qualms in using. Their battle had been spectacular, or at least what their was of it.

The herd of kirin they'd been tracking took offense to the array of lightning strikes the two gods were causing and attacked, raining fireballs upon the lot of them and forcing Thor to abandon the fight. His insufferable whining had lasted for weeks after that.

"Did your brother truly believe he was the only lightning wielder?"

Loki sighed, shaking his head. "Thor was and still is a moron. He could never comprehend or appreciate the customs of other cultures or that his actions might somehow offend those outside of his circle of blind followers."

Raijin reached forward to pet the staticky fur of his familiar. "It's not even about customs so much as fact. Lightning strikes the Earth about eight million times a day. Far more than what one thunder god is capable of, no matter how ambitious they are."

"In truth, I think he was more upset about not being able to finish his fight with you."

"Now that I'd believe," the god said with a rumbling laugh. He watched as Raiju devoured the remainder of the absinth colored seiðr shards before he stood. "It was good to see you again, Mischief Maker."

"And you as well, Thunderer," Loki said, standing up and clasping the other god's proffered forearm. "Feel free to wander by my tavern again."

"I look forward to it. Come Raiju." The thunder beast gave a catlike stretch before leaping from the tabletop and transforming into his customary wolf form midair, his lush white fur practically glowing. "Till we meet again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For those curious, the fires in the Sicilian village, Canneto di Caronia, actually occurred in 2004 and again in 2014. Various appliances (including those unplugged) would suddenly burst into flame and this eventually escalated to mattresses and furniture. These fires are still unexplained, though some actually believe aliens to be at fault.


	4. For Science!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.

* * *

Tony was in his en suite bathroom, his whiskey brown eyes focused on the mirror as he poked and prodded at the skin around his eyes.

He had just completed his daily hygiene regimen and was now squeaky clean and minty fresh, a fluffy monogrammed towel wrapped loosely around his narrow hips showing off his Adonis lines. But right now, he was more focused on his crow's feet, or more accurately, a lack there of.

He glanced between his reflection and an image Jarvis had pulled up of him from some recent publicity shoot. The differences: the faint laugh lines around his eyes had not only diminished, but were now completely gone along with the few grey hairs he'd been contemplating plucking. He didn't feel any different, but it definitely looked like he'd grown younger. _A few heath benefits my ass_.

_"Sir, there appears to be a 6.9% improvement to your overall health."_

"Booze, Jarvis. It's my new miracle drug."

_"Your liver would disagree, Sir."_

"I don't know, I may need to do some more hands-on testing."

_"May I suggest that you invite a neutral perspective to join you then?"_

Tony hummed thoughtfully as he moved to his walk-in closet, pulling on a pair of designer jeans and a well worn band tee. "Where's Brucie at?"

_"Master Banner is currently on his personal floor doing his daily yoga regimen."_

"Awesome," the engineer said as he made his way through his penthouse. "Have him come down to the lab when he's done."

_"Of course, Sir."_

Tony grabbed a box of leftover pizza from the fridge before wandering down the lab himself to wake up the computers.

"Rise and shine," the engineer called out affectionately, snapping his fingers as he went. "It's science time."

Butterfingers answered with a soft whirring noise as it busied itself with making its creator coffee, barely even spilling any when it wheeled the freshly brewed pot over.

"Thanks buddy," Tony said, giving the metal arm an approving pat before quickly pouring himself a steaming mug, knowing better than to trust the robot to do it. _First degree burns fucking hurt._

 _"Sir, a full comparative analysis of the previous blood samples has been completed,"_ Jarvis said.

"Alright, let's see it."

A screen appeared in front of him showing the side-by-side analysis of the numerous blood tests he'd made over the past several days, the most remarkable of course being the ones taken the morning after that glorious golden appletini. _Man, if Bruce doesn't get here soon I'm gonna-_

"Tony?"

"It's about time!" The engineer spun around in his rolling chair playfully, grinning up widely at the other man.

"Please don't tell me you called me down here for another chair race," the scientist frowned.

"Hey, I would have won that if Dum-E hadn't gotten in the way."

The robot in question took that moment to zip by them, gears whirring in a way that the engineer just _knew_ was meant to be mocking, and careened into a metal table laden down with the latest work-in-progress Iron Man suit.

"Goddamnit," Tony cursed, hopping up from his seat to shoo away the metal arm and pick up the half built gauntlet that had fallen. He was in the middle of threatening to dismantle the helper bot when he was interrupted.

"What are these," Bruce called once he had claimed the engineer's vacated seat, swiping a finger over the screen to scroll through the various blood tests.

"That's actually why I wanted you to come down here," Tony grunted as he and a determined U tug-of-warred over the other gauntlet. Finally he threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine, you keep it!"

U raised its arm up and down victoriously with the red and gold gauntlet still clutched in its metal claw. Dum-E rolled over, somehow having found the fire extinguisher Tony had had to keep hidden from it and hosed U down generously.

The engineer shook his head in exasperation, collapsing onto a spare rolling chair with a disgruntled huff as he scooted over towards the other man. "I don't even know why the hell I bother with them."

Bruce couldn't help but snort at their antics, especially when one of the little helper bots started doing messy donuts in the white foam.

"Don't encourage them."

"Considering you can't even keep plants alive they're probably the best choice for you."

"I could so keep plants alive," Tony pouted indignantly. "Actually now that I think about it, that's why I made Butterfingers, to water the plants. And they still died!"

"Sounds like shoddy workmanship to me."

"Hey!"

Bruce pursed his lips, trying hard not to laugh at his best friend. And failing.

"Man, some friend you are," Tony chided, but his lips were spread into a large, lopsided grin. He clapped his hands together suddenly. "So, the tests."

Bruce glanced back up at the screen again, flicking a finger through the various results once more.

"Do you remember when I wandered down to the Mythos Tavern about a week or so ago?"

"I remember Natasha calling you a moron for going down there alone."

"Ya, well I had a drink with our favorite crazy ass Viking."

"Of course you did," the scientist said, sounding not the least bit surprised as he watched the other man reach over and grab a slice of cold pizza from the box laying out on the work table nearby.

"And well," Tony said around a mouthful, motioning towards himself, "notice anything different about me?"

Bruce shrugged a shoulder in turn. "You finally plucked those grey hairs?"

"Not exactly." Tony told him about the golden appletini and what the blood tests were for and the slight health improvements he'd experienced.

The scientist hummed thoughtfully. "That's not a very big difference though."

"Well, I only had the one glass."

"Just one," Bruce asked skeptically. And then it clicked. "Loki threw you out didn't he?"

"I was being charming and everything," Tony cried dramatically, throwing his arms up in the air again.

"In that case, I'm surprised he didn't try to stab you. He must have been showing a lot of restraint."

"That's funny," the engineer said with no small amount of sarcasm and a nod. "We should be sure to congratulate him on that when we go down there today."

"What?"

"Ya, we should go tonight," he said with growing enthusiasm.

"Tony, we're supposed to be leaving him alone. That was part of the deal."

"Uh, technically we're allowed to monitor him."

" _Technically_ , we're only supposed to be monitoring his location and magic."

"Alright, fine. Jarv, is there any change in Loki's whereabouts or magical output?"

_"None, Sir. Loki Laufeyson is currently located in the apartment above the Mythos Tavern. Use of magic is minimal."_

"It's just not fair," Tony whined, kicking his feet out petulantly. "His shabby little bar is better stocked than any other bar I've _ever_ been to. And that's saying something."

"There'll be other bars, Tony."

"Not with alien liquor," he pouted, crossing his arms.

Bruce shook his head, smiling despite himself. "Jarvis, is there _anything_ out of the ordinary going on with Loki right now?"

There was a brief pause and Tony looked up hopefully. _"Mr. Laufeyson's core body temperature is currently at 54_ _°F, well below his usual rate."_

"Has this happened before," Bruce asked curiously, his brow furrowing.

_"On average this has occurred at least once a day and always when there has been no other life signs in the near vicinity."_

"Weird," Tony commented. "Why didn't you tell me about this out sooner?"

_"The parameters for which you have set in place to monitor Mr. Laufeyson consist only of his location and use of magic. There has been no significant changes to either of these, thus notification was not necessary."_

"Shoddy workmanship," Bruce said in a soft, singsong voice.

"Ok, you, Big Boy," Tony said, pointing a finger at the other man, "need to stop hanging out with Birdbrain. And you," he continued, pointing a finger up at one of Jarvis' sensors hidden in the ceiling, "need to pull up the data from his bracelet."

_"Already done, Sir."_

Another screen came to life, showing both men the gathered data the AI had pulled from the sensors in Loki's bracelet. With SHIELD's such limited info and the Avengers needing some way of keeping an eye on the would-be dictator, this had seemed the best way to get what he needed. Still, it wasn't much, but enough for the two men to share a look.

Not only was Loki's body temperature low, but all of his vitals seemed off.

 _"His heart rate is slightly elevated,"_ Jarvis pointed out, _"though that may be a sign of possible agitation. He does not appear to be in any distress however, and all other vital signs are normal."_

"You call this normal," Bruce asked.

_"For his current condition, yes."_

"Maybe we should go down there so you can play doctor," Tony suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

"What would you have me do, poke him with a stick?"

"I believe they're called tongue depressors." Bruce gave him an annoyed look, but the engineer only grinned even wider.

"Jarvis, start compiling a database of all of these occurrences."

" _Of course, Sir. Would you like me to begin notifying you as well?"_

"Nah, don't worry about it," Tony said with a dismissive wave of his hand, watching as Bruce poured over the gathered data again. "So, how about a drink?"

* * *

Loki stood naked in the midst of a sea of mirrors.

The air was cold and sharp and undisturbed by the soft puffs of his breath. If he was mortal he was certain he'd be able to see it condense in the air. If he was Æsir... But right now, he was in his Jotun form. His true form.

And he hated it.

He hated his eyes, the color of spilt blood. He hated his skin, so blue and glacial. He hated his horns, the twin peaks that protruded so proudly from his brow. He hated the raised lines carved into his foreign skin, ridges that flowed from head to toe.

But despite how disgusted he felt at seeing this form, his fingers no longer twitched with the urge to conjure a dagger and slice this curse from his body.

He counted it as progress.

Loki had started doing this, forcing himself to look upon his monstrous appearance, since he had been banished from Asgard. Masochistic maybe, but it was still a part of him and, more importantly, a base part of his magic.

And while he would never forgive Odin for his lies, he was determined to accepted this and swore to _never_ allow anyone to use this against him again.

_Curse the Allfather for ever making him feel ashamed for being who he was._

Loki suddenly felt a tug on his wards as someone entered the tavern below. It was early yet, but after staring into the face of a monster he welcomed the distraction. Gratefully.

He waved a hand, displacing the mirrors with a muttered spell. He shapeshifted back to his usual form with ease and goosebumps broke out over his now creamy skin from the still too cool air.

He wandered through his apartment, his bare feet padding over the dark hardwood floors softly, and entered his bedroom to pull on a pair of loose jeans and a thin sweater before finally making his way down stairs. The stairwell ended in a narrow hallway, both of which Loki kept heavily warded and concealed should someone try to gain access to his new abode.

Not that they could, he had sealed up the building's entrances, save for the tavern's and even that only connected to a spacious kitchen. He liked the idea of serving food to his patrons, it was just a shame he had yet to make use of it.

Still, Loki kept it all separated from the rest of the building and there was no longer any real threshold to his two story apartment that didn't involve the use of magic or teleportation or, at the very least, tearing down a wall.

Through the swinging double doors and into the tavern, Loki froze mid step when he spotted who his patrons were and his expression pinched immediately.

"Man, who's leg do I have to hump to get a drink around here," Tony whined loudly.

"Mine," Loki answered in a dark, monotone voice making both mortal's heads swivel in his direction.

"Finally. I thought I was gonna have to start serving myself."

"What are you two doing here?"

"Well, you're the proprietor of this establishment. You tell us."

"I would say," Loki answered, narrowing his eyes at them, "that you were trying to purposefully breach the pact set in place between your SHIELD and I."

"And you would be oh so wrong," Tony said, toothy grin wide and mocking.

Loki stepped away from the doorway cautiously and moved to stand before them, the dark wood bar firmly between them. "How so?"

"Well, I was telling Brucie here...you remember him, tall, dark and green-"

"Tony," the scientist cut in before the engineer could completely derail the conversation.

"Right, right. Anyway, I was telling him all about that drink you made for me the last time I was here and well," he paused, gesturing broadly to the tavern around him, "here we are."

Slowly, very slowly, Loki arched a fine eyebrow, expectantly. "And?"

Tony sighed dramatically as he sat forward, propping his forearms on the edge of the bar. "Listen, Reindeer Games. I don't know if you know this or not, but the whole point of having a bar and, more importantly, being a bartender is to serve drinks. So chop, chop."

The god blinked at him. "It's as though you are _begging me_ to throw you out of another window."

"Loki, we're not here to upset you or to otherwise violate your agreement," Bruce said calmly, "but you can't blame us for being curious."

Loki's eyes narrowed in suspicion before ultimately crossing him arms and bracing a hip against the edge of the bar. "Ask your questions then be done with it," he spat.

"Oh, I've got one," Tony said immediately. "Exactly how many of those little martinis would it take for someone to become immortal?"

Loki actually rolled his eyes at him. "As I have said before, the appletinis do not grant immortality no matter how many of them you drink. You must eat the golden apple in its entirety, including the core."

"Are there any other drinks or food that result in immortality," Bruce asked next.

"I can think of several," the god answered with a nod. "In addition to ambrosia, the Grecian gods also enjoy nectar, a honey based wine that is so fragrant that many of the goddesses, Aphrodite for instance, use it as perfume. The Hindu gods have amrita, a strong milky liquor, and soma, a hallucinogenic tea made from mushrooms. And there is a grove of peach trees in China tended to by the goddess, Xi-Wangmu, the queen mother."

"You wouldn't happen to have any of those on hand would you," the engineer asked, his whiskey brown eyes sweeping over the bottles behind the god.

"No," Loki admitted, "but the divine peaches will ripen soon and I'm hoping to procure some from Xi-Wangmu. If she agrees to trade with me, I intend to start my own peach tree grove and create a wine from its fruit. Its a shame though, the queen mother's peaches flower only once every 1,000 years and take another 3,000 years to ripen."

"That's a long time to wait for a peach," Tony commented as he stroked over his bearded chin.

"She keeps them in rotation now so there is always a small selection about to ripen, but there was a time when they would mature all at once and the queen mother would host these grand, elaborate banquets during the harvest."

"What made her change," Bruce asked, arms folded on top of the bar comfortably.

"During the last great harvest, Sun-Wukong, the monkey king, had been charged with guarding Xi-Wangmu's garden while she prepared for the banquet. Instead of tending to his duties, however, he devoured all of the longevity peaches and ended up crashing the banquet he had not been invited to."

Tony shook his head and snorted. "The monkey king?"

"Yes," Loki said with a small smirk. "That monkey certainly knew how to entertain." And the fact that Thor had been absolutely livid, along with all the other gods, when he had succeeded in drinking all of the alcohol had been another source of amusement for him. But then, as is the way of things for all trickster gods, the Monkey King had been punished. A solemn status quo that all the various pantheons seem to adhere to. "Well, now that you have satisfied your curiosity once again-"

"Uh, not so fast, Prancer," Tony cut in quickly. "There's just one more thing."

"And that is," the god asked in a lazy drawl.

The two men shared a look before Bruce answered. "A few hours ago, we registered a dip in your body's core temperature."

"A huge dip," the engineer added helpfully.

"Would you mind telling us what that was?"

Loki stood frozen in place, his pale face completely blank, but Bruce and Tony both noticed the subtle shift in the easy atmosphere. His poisonous green eyes flicked down to the bracelet on his wrist in sudden realization before they snapped back up again, narrowing dangerously at them. "That is none of your concern," he said, voice dark and acidic.

"We just wanted to make sure you were ok," Bruce said appeasingly.

Loki only scoffed. "You care so much?"

"We care if you start offing people because of it," the engineer said.

"No, I think once was more than enough."

Tony and Bruce both looked as though they wanted to say something more, but before they could the tavern's entryway swung open as an elderly woman of Native American decent walked in, her leashed cat trailing behind her. The engineer cocked an eyebrow at the odd pair, only to raise it even further when the woman and her feline companion began to change form.

Wrinkles faded into smooth, flawless skin, salt and pepper grey hair turned inky black and her hunched frame straightened. She didn't look any older than twenty or so. As for her cat, the little animal nearly tripled in size, the harness secured to his body stretching easily to accommodate, and his calico coat shifting into a solid yellowish tan color, but the most bizarre thing out of all of this was the decidedly human face the creature was now sporting, framed by a distinct lion like mane.

"It's been a while, Mischief Maker," the woman called in a friendly voice as she walked up to the bar and claimed a seat a few stools down from the two gaping mortals, her sphinx leaping up to claim his own seat next her.

"So it has," Loki answered pleasantly, dropping a kiss to the back of her hand. The sudden change in Loki's personality nearly gave Tony whiplash and even Bruce had to raise an eyebrow at the exchange. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need a reason to come see my favorite uncle?" Loki snorted and she gave a shrug. "Well, maybe I'm here for a drink too," she amended.

"Well come on, Rock of Ages," Tony said enthusiastically as he leaned over the bar. "Stop holding out on us." The look Loki gave him was practically murderous, but Tony didn't care as long as he got a drink out of it.

"Rock of Ages," the mysterious woman snickered. "How delightful."

"Don't you start too," the god snarked.

"Sorry, Uncle Loki, but that's hardly the worst thing you've ever been called. Besides, you did promise to make me one of your Golden Appletinis."

"Are you even old enough to drink in this country?"

"I am," she said proudly, pulling out her driver's license as proof.

Loki gave the card a cursory glance and huffed. "Very well," he said, turning to pull down a martini glass. "I suppose 'happy birthday' is also in order."

"Damn right," she grinned.

"And for your familiar, does he have a preference?"

Her smile turned sheepish. "Unfortunately, he's developed a taste for trashy romance novels."

"Sphinxes only take a liking to the books their masters read," Loki said with a snicker, earning a bright blush from the girl. He caste a glance towards Tony and Bruce. "I suppose you two would like a drink as well?"

"God, yes," the engineer cried out and the scientist gave a small nod in turn.

"I think I'd like to try your Golden Appletini," Bruce said politely.

Loki nodded, settling his gaze on the engineer who was stroking a calloused hand over his beard thoughtfully, his whiskey brown eyes sweeping over the vast array of bottles.

"I'm feeling adventurous today," he finally said. "Surprise me." The god actually gave him a devious smirk which Tony answered with his own typical playboy grin. _Bring it on, Reindeer Games._

As Loki turned to prepare their drinks, Tony and Bruce looked over to their fellow patron.

"So, you and Loki are related," Bruce asked curiously.

"Not by blood, no. Loki is an old friend of my great-grandfather's. I'm Kai by the way," she said, offering her hand in greeting. "Kai Otekha."

"That's a very pretty name."

"Thank you. It means willow tree sun maiden or something like that."

Tony hummed thoughtfully. "Let me guess. Your great-grandmamma was a Cherokee princess."

"Not even close," Kai answered, shaking her head. "For one, my ancestors are Navajo, not Cherokee. Secondly, Native American tribes did not have princesses or royalty in general. At best the term princess was in reference to the Chieftain's daughter who, I might add, was more akin to a mayor than king. But more likely than not, the term 'Cherokee Princess' was used by people looking to spruce up there family tree or as a term of endearment."

"You've had this conversation before haven't you," Bruce said.

"You have no idea," she groaned.

"So, Kai Otekha," the engineer cut in again. "Are you a god?"

She smirked playfully. "When someone asks if you're a god, you say 'yes'."

Tony chuckled at the reference. "Classic."

"But no, I'm not a god," she admitted. "I do have a few in my family tree though. Which reminds me, Uncle Loki. The Old Man should be wandering by sometime soon."

"Of course he will," the god muttered.

"That's an interesting pet you have," Bruce said as he shifted in his seat, trying to get a better view of her sphinx.

Kai scratched her familiar behind his ear, earning a loud a rumbling purr. "He's pureblooded Egyptian," she said proudly.

Tony pulled out his cell phone as discreetly as he could to snap a quick photo, but the creature's sharp, predator eyes found him out. The sphinx cocked his to the side playfully, giving a wide Cheshire grin that revealed his very sharp looking teeth. So photogenic. "So, what's Mr. Egyptian's name?"

"Simba," she said with a sigh, making both Tony and Bruce snicker. "My sister named him."

Loki turned then, cutting their conversation short as he set down two filled martini glasses, sliding one over to Kai and the other to Bruce. He quickly conjured a paperback book with a twist of his fingers and broke the spine before setting that down in front of the sphinx. The ravenous creature wasted little in pawing the romance novel open to lick at the pages. He licked his lips appreciatively before sinking his sharp teeth into the crisp pages and ripping one out and quickly devouring it.  He turned again, ducking down to retrieve a dark bottle from one of the lower shelves and again, reaching up to pull down a very slender and dainty looking thimble of a shot glass.

The bottle itself had no identifying label on it, but there was a faint glow coming from deep within the darkened glass container, reminiscent of a burning ember.  Loki uncorked the bottle with practiced ease and very carefully filled the splendidly, crystal shot glass with the shimmering amber colored liquid before stoppering the bottle and nudging the thin glass towards the engineer.

Tony expression dubious. "What that hell is that?"

"Wine," Loki answered simply, but the engineer's face only scrunched up even more. "You did say you were feeling adventurous did you not?"

Tony sat staring at it, even as his fellow patrons took tentative sips from their own drink and hummed in appreciation. _Maybe he should have gone with the appletini again. At least then he wouldn't have gotten some tiny ass thimble._ He sighed almost dejectedly before reaching out for it.

"You might wish to sip it," Loki offered, making Tony scoff as he instead choosing to down the drink in one go.

Heat instantly pooled in the pit of stomach, spreading throughout his body in a sudden wave that left his brain fuzzy and his limbs tingling pleasantly. Tony was pretty sure his mouth just had an orgasm.

"Wow, what the hell was that," he asked again, his mouth feeling numb and his words slurring with the effort.

"Wine," Loki repeated with a shrug. "Sparkling firewine from Muspelheim to be exact."

Tony could feel his face flush as a sudden queasy pressure built in his gut. He slumped back in his chair, taking deep breaths to stave off the sudden urge to vomit.

"Uh, Tony?"

_Good ole Bruce._

"Your chest is glowing."

_Because of my arc reactor?_

"And your neck. And your face."

 _Ok, that's different._ Tony threw his head back suddenly, coughing out a glittering ball of fire in the air above him. _Ah, much better._

Loki's hand darted out just fast enough to remove the delicate glass from the bar top as Tony slumped forward, his head thumping loudly against the dark wood of the bar as he passed out. The god sighed, leaning against the edge of the bar. "Perhaps I should have watered it down a bit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: From what I've found, the sphinx comes in two versions: Egyptian and Greek (though there do seem to be other off shoots of these as well). The Egyptian version has the body of a lion and head of a man while the Greek version has the body of lion, head and torso of a woman and wings of an eagle. The Egyptian sphinx is gentle and benevolent. The Greek sphinx is much more vicious, usually offering up a riddle and killing those who fail to answer it correctly.
> 
> And for those curious, the idea of the sphinx eating books came from the movie Mirror Mask. If you like movies that are weird and dark, then you'll love it.


	5. Coyote Ugly

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.

* * *

His brain was fuzzy from sleep and his bed warm and lulling. Still, Loki wasn't sure what it was that had woken him and it was several minutes before he finally registered the warm weight tucked into his side, slowly grinding against his thigh and morning erection. Bare skin flush against his own.

Except Loki had _definitely_ gone to bed alone.

His mind cleared instantly and he tensed as he felt the foreign contact shift again, moving to straddle his hips. A thick, heavy cock slid alongside his own, grinding firmly, and Loki had to grit his teeth to keep from moaning out as his eyes finally fluttered open to the familiar face of his molester looming above him.

The trickster god's bright, yellow eyes widened in surprise at having been caught before narrowing in laughter, the edges crinkling in amusement, and his mouth twisted into a decidedly lewd grin. "Morning, Sweet Cheeks. How 'bout a kiss?"

Loki's fist shot up instantly, connecting squarely with the side of Coyote's head and knocking him off balance.

The other god let himself fall to the side, landing on the bed next to the Asgardian in a sprawled out heap, unashamed of his naked form or proud erection. He lifted a hand to rub his jaw. "I come to say hello and that's how you greet me? So rude."

Ruthlessly ignoring his own demanding cock, Loki quickly reached for a blanket to cover himself with. "How did you get passed my wards," he hissed.

"Oh, Loki. We've been friends for a long time now, haven't we? Long enough, certainly, for me to have discovered a way or two around them. Besides if I'm not mistaken," he added casually, "I taught a few of those spells to you."

"So you broke into my home and slipped past my wards just to _hump_ me?"

"Of course." The Asgardian's expression was incredulous, a thin eyebrow arching towards his hairline. "Well, when was the last time _you_ broke into someone's home to have a good rut?"

"Some of us are actually capable of ignoring our baser instincts."

"How boring," Coyote scoffed.

Loki propped himself up on an elbow so he could glare down at the other god and growled. "Just how many times do you want me to stab you?"

"You know, I'm beginning to wonder if stabbing is a form of affection for you."

Loki flopped back down on the bed with an aggravated huff, shaking his head. "Well now that your here, what do you want?" The other god perked up, rolling back over to through a leg over his hip only to be shoved off again with a hand to his face. "We are _not_ doing that."

"Prude."

"Mongrel."

Coyote laughed, his broad grin easily showing off his white, even teeth. "Oh, I have missed you."

Loki snorted in response, but a small smirk still tugged at his lips. "I suppose you have a reason for being nude as well?"

"Well you were sleeping so peacefully, and in the _buff_ I might add, I didn't want to make you feel self-conscious. So I disrobed for _your_ benefit."

"So thoughtful," Loki snarked.

"Yes, and your welcome."

The mischievous god shook his head again, kicking himself internally. He really should have known better. Kai even said he would be stopping by and they had indeed been friends for a _very_ long time. The lack of a welcome mat, or even a door for that matter, would not have deterred the other god from barging into his home.

Coyote, or Old Man as he's known in some circles, was the Navajo trickster god, though he was never one to limit himself to a single tribe. He was tall and broad shouldered and despite the moniker he looked rather young, easily matching Loki's own youthful face, but he was far from it. Coyote was, after all, one of the creator gods.

And they had found each other, surprisingly, when both were licking their wounds.

Loki had been wandering the young wilderness of North America, alone in his self exile. What use had he for company anyway when his lips had been sewn shut?

Yes, the God of Lies finally made mute! Oh, how the royal courts had jeered and laughed at his public humiliation while his own brother held him down so the pair of sibling dwarves could try their hand at sewing. And after he was let loose, Loki had stumbled out of Asgard and across the branches of Yggdrasil until he had come crashing down to Midgard. Literally.

Coyote had suffered too, wandering in and out of Loki's makeshift camp to nurse his own wounds brought on by his playful mockery. Arrow wounds and concussions and burns did little to effect his ego though, and no matter how harsh his glare, Loki could never get the other god to leave him be or to stop talking. But when it came time for Loki's lips to be freed, Coyote hadn't even hesitated in helping him.

Loki had been so young then, barely an adult by Æsir standards.

He sighed, forcing his mind back to the present. "Little Kai came by to see me the other day."

The older god hummed noncommittally as he stretched out his long limbs, catlike.

"She's become a remarkable skinwalker," Loki praised casually.

"The women in her bloodline have always been exceptional. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with her great-grandmother."

Loki snorted out a laugh. "Yes, I remember you two yipping and yowling at each other like you were both in heat."

"Well she had such a lovely tail." The edges of Coyote's grin were both lascivious and soft, his bright yellow eyes growing distant with old memories. "She reminds me of her sometimes, young Kai. It's a shame I'll outlive her as well."

"Mortals were born to die."

"This is true," Coyote agreed. "I could have sought out another god or goddess eons ago and save myself the heartache, but _we_ were born for change, you and I, along with all the other trickster gods and mischief makers. To bind with another god would have been the very depth of boredom."

Loki couldn't deny that, his own failed marriage with Sigyn was a prime example after all. And she could never take a joke either. He sighed tiredly, rubbing a hand over his eyes and wishing he could return to his slumber. "How long do you plan on being here?"

Coyote tilted his head to the side to look at him, his expression brimming with mock hurt. "You know, you're not much of a friend if you're this eager to be rid of me."

"True friendship's laws are by this rule expressed: welcome the coming, speed the parting guest," he quoted.

"Well now I'm definitely staying."

"Then would you mind getting out of my bed so I can get dressed?"

"Uh yes, yes I would."

The young mischief maker rolled his eyes before promptly kicking the other got of bed with a burst of seiðr.

Coyote landed hard on the cold wooden floors with a loud, embarrassing yip and it was a few moments before he finally sat up slowly, his bright yellow eyes peeking up over the edge of the bed at Loki who was now sporting an all too innocent expression.

"Well, now that you're up," Loki cooed in an overly saccharine voice, "you can put some clothes on."

"You know, I almost miss the days when you couldn't speak. Almost."

The older god disappeared into a puff of pale white smoke and Loki could feel a tug on the wards in his living room as he rematerialized there. He flopped back down gracelessly, covering his face with one of his pillows to smother a childish whine. Unlike Thor, he had _never_ been a morning person, but despite this, Loki still rolled out of bed to shower and dress. Coyote had too short attention span to keep him waiting for long.

Loki was finger combing his wet hair as he entered the living room and claimed a seat in a large overstuffed chair, kicking a long leg up over one of the armrests and propping his head on a slender hand.

Coyote, now in his usual animal form, was stretched out on the couch, wriggling around on his back and leaving behind tufts of brown and grey fur on the once pristine leather.

"I would have thought you had grown out of that habit by now."

Coyote paused, his long tongue lolling out of his muzzle in a wide wolfish grin. "Well we can't all spend our days looking pale and tragic like you," he said, voice gruffer in his animal form.

Loki hummed quietly. "Why are you here again?"

"I happened to be in the neighborhood?" The younger god gave him a pointed, unamused look. "Ya, didn't think you'd buy that. Nonetheless," he continued as he shifted back into his godly form, his thick fur receding and giving way to smooth, tan skin, "it's been awhile since we've had a good heart to heart and I'm rather curious as to what you plan to do with yourself during your exile."

Loki's gaze faltered. "You're not angry for what I did then? For Germany? New York?"

"That wasn't you. Not the real you anyway."

Loki gave a short, mirthless chuckle. "You sound so sure of that."

"Aren't I? You are a warrior, Loki, not a murder."

"I am a monster," he corrected bitterly.

"No, you are Jotun. Thanos is the monster and if Zeus had done a better job imprisoning him in Tartarus with all the other titans, then the invasion would never have happened."

"And I'd still be trapped in the void."

Coyote's ancient yellow eyes were piercing, cutting through him in a way his false father's single blue eye had never managed. "I forget sometimes how young you are, Godling. To fall into the void when you were already reeling from Odin's deceit. Add to that a bit of torture and it's no wonder the Mad Titan had been able to enthrall you so completely."

Loki's face was pinched in a tight frown, his brows drawn together. "How do you know about that?"

"How do you think I know," Coyote responded, giving him a rueful smile. "That blabbermouth, Ratatoskr, has been running up and down the world tree, gassing on about it none stop."

"That insufferable rodent," the younger god muttered.

Coyote chuckled, nodding in agreement. "We got into it you know, that annoying little squirrel and I. Almost got a chunk of his tail, too."

Loki hummed, but didn't comment, his green eyes growing distant with thought.

"I wouldn't have let you drift in the void," Coyote said after awhile. "Had I known you had fallen from the bridge, I would have sought you out myself."

"What would you know about the void," Loki asked, voice soft and dark.

"I was born in the void, and while Gaia and Yahweh and the other creator gods spent their time forming Earth," Coyote began, "I created the Milky Way."

"You got bored while you were supposed to forming the constellations and decided to dump out the rest of the stars so you wouldn't have to do any more."

Coyote huffed, crossing his arms over his chest childishly. "What would you know about stars?"

"I didn't just fall, though," he admitted slowly, his dark green eyes looking anywhere but at the other god. "I let go. I _chose_ the void over a family that was never truly mine, over a realm that had never truly excepted me and over a father whose approval I have rarely, if ever, gained."

"Weren't they though? Your family that is. Odin is an ass, too blinded by his own schemes, but can you honestly say that Frigga was never your mother without it tasting a lie?"

"Her love for me has always been unconditional," Loki agreed, voice soft.

"And Thor?"

"Thor is a moron."

Coyote snorted. "What more than that? Has he even been inside your little establishment?"

"No, nor will he. How often did I offer up advice to him only for my words to fall upon deaf ears? How often was I belittled for my talents," he ranted. "No, if he desires so _greatly_ to be called my brother again, let him try for once. I have no wish or desire to ever be his brother again. I am done with him."

"But you would accept him if he tried." It wasn't a question.

Loki didn't answer, but his seiðr practically churning with his anger and resentment.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, statistically speaking, half the people who live in Manhattan live alone, so if anything you freed up some valuable real estate. Though for future reference, I would have invaded China or India. Either country could do with a good 'thinning of the herd.'

The younger god huffed out a laugh despite his dark thoughts. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Lydia from AdultFanFiction.org as she was the one to suggest Coyote, the trickster god from Native American mythology. I was not familiar with this god, but had so much fun learning about him. For those of you who aren't familiar with him either, Coyote appears in several Native American legends and is not confined to just one tribe or even a single region.
> 
> There are so many stories with Coyote and some of them are pretty funny. For instance, did you hear the one where Coyote traded penises with Mouse to win a smallest dick contest? He would have won it too if everyone hadn't noticed Mouse trying to walk around while dragging this huge penis on the ground.
> 
> As for the myth referenced in this chapter (when Loki and Coyote first met), I'll summarize it for you. It basically revolves around Coyote being hungry and mooching food off of his friends. He goes to see Raven first who shoots himself with an arrow and pulls it out along with buffalo meat. Coyote tries to replicate this, but only ends up hurting himself. He goes to see Bear next who rams into a persimmon tree, making the fruit drop which he then gives to Coyote. Coyote tries this himself, butting his head against the tree only to get a few lumps and a concussion. Lastly, he goes to Woodpecker, but Coyote is distracted by the flaming red feathers on Woodpecker's head that he tries to duplicate it, setting his head on fire and again, hurting himself.


End file.
